by Sybil Bartel
My heart somersaulted at the mention of his brother. Even though I was staring at his mirror image, there were moments when I was with Vance that I didn’t even think of Ronan, because Vance’s personality was so different.
And Vance was right. Despite Ronan giving me the cold shoulder, I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t kill Vance if he walked in now and saw me. My long hair a tangled mess, my dress disheveled, I could already feel the fresh bruises forming.
Not wanting Ronan to see me like this, I turned toward the bathroom, but I didn’t even make it one step.
The door to the suite opened, and Adam walked in.
Then it was like a parade of muscle.
His hand resting on the gun on his hip as if it were as casual as breathing, André strode in followed by Ronan and three more huge men all wearing the same black polo shirts and cargo pants.
My heart stopped.
Feeding his belt through the loops, Vance put on a big, fake smile. “Gentlemen, thank you for coming.”
Six dominating, overmuscled, armed men looked from me to Vance, and all at once, the air left the suite and thick tension rushed in.
Green and amber eyes, darkened to the fury of a perfect storm, met mine, and icy-cold fear whipped across my skin. Like the receding tide before a tsunami, the love of my life inhaled.
“Madre de Dios,” André muttered a split second before Ronan moved.
Except Ronan didn’t just move.
He exploded.
One second he was in front of me, the next his fist was slamming into his brother’s face with the sickening crunch of breaking cartilage.
I screamed, and two of the newcomers grabbed Ronan while Adam and André simply watched.
Ronan, seething mad but not fighting the two men holding him, glared at his brother.
Vance swiped the back of his hand across his bloodied face and smiled. “You get it all out? You good now?”
Nostrils flaring, Ronan said nothing.
One of the men holding Ronan’s arm glanced at me and smiled a smile that was worthy of a magazine cover. Holding out his free hand as if introductions under the circumstances were completely normal, he didn’t let go of Ronan with his other. “I’m Tyler, Miss Narine. Nice to meet you.”
A bearded man holding Ronan’s other arm scowled at Tyler.
As if sensing the other man’s eyes on him, Tyler nodded at the bearded man. “That’s Harm.” He tipped his chin at the dark-haired man standing behind them with his fingers tapping out a pattern on his leg. “And that’s Ty. We’ll be helping out with security this week while you’re here.”
André glanced at Adam. “Trefor, brief my men.” Then he looked from Ronan to me. “Conlon, Miss Narine, hallway.” He walked out the door.
Still glaring at his brother, Ronan shook off Tyler and Harm and followed André without looking at me.
I glanced at Vance.
He smiled reassuringly, even though his eye was already blackening and his nose, dripping blood, looked crooked. “It’s all right, love. I’m fine.” He nodded after André and Ronan. “Go.”
Not bothering to put on my shoes, I walked to the door where Ronan was standing, holding it open. Looking past me, he threw his brother a lethal glare.
Mentally steeling myself to come closer to him than I had in ten years, I held my breath and slipped past him. But once I was in the hall and inhaled, it was as if life decided to punish me.
Dry cedar and ocean breezes mixed with the heat of his fury as he stepped out of the suite and stood by my side.
The door clicked shut, and André said something to Ronan in Spanish.
“No,” he clipped in response, radiating tension but remaining perfectly still.
André looked at me. “Do you need medical care?”
I couldn’t help it, my eyes widened. “I’m fine.”
It was as if my two words broke the invisible hold Ronan had keeping him together, and he snapped. Turning on me, he met my eyes and practically levitated with anger. “You’re bruised everywhere.”
“It’s not what you think,” I foolishly blurted.
Inhaling sharply, Ronan clenched his jaw and fisted his hands.
André put a hand on Ronan’s shoulder but kept his gaze on me. “Miss Narine, do not mistake my calm demeanor right now for condonation. You don’t know me, but I can assure you that there are things I will not tolerate. Before I allow Ronan to go back and finish what he started, I am asking you, point-blank, if you need to be removed from a domestic situation.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but André held up his hand.
“Before you answer that, know that whatever services Adam Trefor and AES were providing you, I can accommodate and will provide while you are stateside. I will also personally guarantee your safety and make arrangements for you once you’re back in London if needed.” He paused, and the look in his eyes turned lethal. “But I will not stand by while a man puts his hands on you in anger. Understood?”
Three months ago, I would have withered under André Luna’s dominating presence.
Three months ago, I was a different person.
But Vance had changed me. He’d given me something I’d desperately needed. And the new me wasn’t withering.
I was fighting anger.
I SAW THE CHANGE.
Both immediate and in general.
The girl I knew ten years ago who would have shrunk under Luna’s attention disappeared, and a new woman emerged in her place. But she wasn’t entirely new. I still saw the depth in her eyes, the determination, but I was now also looking at grace and poise, and tells from years of conditioning—straight shoulders, still hands, unwavering eye contact, and most obvious, her lack of any accent.
It all stood out, but not as much as the discoloration on her collarbone, upper arm and both shins. Her hair was a mess, her dress was disheveled, and I didn’t give a fuck if this was consensual or not, I was going to kill Vance the first chance I got. Right after I beat the fucking shit out of him for destroying the most beautiful part of my Songbird.
Because the one thing that I didn’t see in her, the one thing that made her uniquely mine all those years ago, what I would’ve killed for and still would, was her natural submissiveness.
It was gone.
And in its place was anger.
Her left eye twitched, and her chest rose with a steadying breath, and I knew Luna was about to have his ass verbally handed to him.
“Mr. Luna.” The woman who was no longer my Songbird clasped her hands. Then like the performer she now was, despite looking like she went three rounds and lost, she put on an air of confidence. “I can assure you that if I can manage to sing to sold-out stadiums, I can certainly tell the difference between domestic violence and consent. I can also assure you that not only surviving but thriving for ten years in the music industry has left me with a thicker skin than you could possibly imagine. And while I regret my less-than-perfect appearance, I do not have to justify, explain, or defend myself. Mr. Trefor, Vance and myself have asked you here to help with the bomber, and that is all I need from you. Do we have an understanding?”
Luna stared at her for a beat. “All right, we have an understanding. But know this, if Conlon so much as touches you in front of me, I’m breaking both of his arms.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Her voice was the deep smoothness that had made her a star, but her tone was all attitude.
“Necessary or not, I stand by my word.” Luna glanced at me. “Anything else?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Have you been in contact with him all this time?”
She blinked. Then the veiled anger thinning her lips released as her eyebrows drew together. “What?”
I’d thrown her. Good. “Have you been spending time with Vance since you signed your first contract?”
Her frown deepened. “No, of course not. I didn’t even know he worked for Adam when I called Alpha Elite Security. I only reconnected with Vance three
months ago.”
I nodded once. “Then you don’t know everything he’s capable of.” But I did. I’d kept tabs on him both while he was in the Marines and after he got out and joined Trefor.
Her attitude came back in an instant. “I’m sure—”
The door to the suite opened.
His phone to his ear, Trefor motioned for us to come back inside. “Sitrep.” He turned away from the door and gave his attention to the call. “Copy that. I want all passenger lists from Heathrow to Miami checked, and keep me apprised of any status updates at any of our watch points… Ten-four.” He hung up.
In a new shirt and with a piece of tape across the bridge of his nose, Vance smiled as we all walked back into the suite, but his gaze zeroed in on Sanaa. “Have they offered you sanctuary from me yet, love?”
“Yes, and they’re also offering to break both of your arms if you touch me in front of them.”
Vance chuckled as he held his hands up. “Fair enough. As it were, I’m partial to two working limbs.” One eye already swollen, he winked his good eye at her, then his gaze cut to me and he dropped the bullshit smile. “I think we’re even.”
I was going to enjoy beating him within an inch of his life.
“Conlon, Luna.” Trefor glanced between me, Luna and Sanaa. “We’ve got movement. The information we leaked has gone viral as of a half hour ago. It’s all over social media that she’s here in Miami for the week. Hotel security has alerted me that paparazzi are already camped downstairs across the street and probably in the lobby. My team will track passenger lists of flights from Heathrow to Miami, and we’re watching her staff in London to see if anyone goes missing.” He glanced at his watch. “Nothing’s happening tonight. We’ve got a small window to take a breather.” He glanced at Luna. “Leave two of your men for first shift, and Vance and I will take second. Report back at oh eight hundred.”
“Copy that.” Luna nodded at Tyler and Harm. “They’ll stay. Ronan, Ty and I will be back in the morning. Call if anything changes.”
“That’s it?” Ty crossed his arms. “You’re going to leave her up here in an ivory tower and hope some sick bastard comes to her with a bomb? Even for you, that’s a long shot, Trefor.”
“It’s our only shot,” Trefor corrected. “We’re not going to risk fifty thousand fans next week at her last show.”
I didn’t comment, but I picked up on a particular word in his sentence. Luna and I were already working this behind the scenes. Whether Trefor let it slip that this was her last show ever or merely last on tour didn’t make a difference. There was something fucked going on.
“Well, if that’s all, gentlemen, I need some ice and Miss Narine needs sleep. We’ll reconvene in the morning.” Vance moved toward the door.
I let my gaze cut to her.
Staring at me, her hands clasped, her feet bare, she looked vulnerable as hell. She also looked like my brother had beaten the fuck out of her. A fresh wave of rage hit, but this time it was twofold. If she wanted to bed my asshole of a brother, that was on her.
I had no right to her.
But like a fucking fool, I stood there and let her eyes meet mine. Then I let every jealous thought surface and I gave her an in. All she had to do was give me a sign—any sign—and I’d take her out of here and get her so far off the grid, no one would find us.
She didn’t so much as blink.
Having my answer, I shut every shit emotion down and turned toward the door.
Luna and Ty followed, and no one said a damn thing until we were at the elevator.
“Whatever the real story is, I guarantee you that shit’s FUBAR.” Ty hit the call button. “Trefor’s never been sloppy, and everything about this is sideways.”
“Yep,” Luna agreed.
“So why the fuck did we just walk out?” Ty looked at me. “And why the hell are you so damn quiet?” He jerked his head back toward the suite. “If that’s your woman in there, what the fuck are you doing out here?”
“She’s not mine.” Not anymore. Maybe she never was.
“Right.” Ty snorted. “And your brother’s face isn’t beat to hell.”
The elevator arrived, saving me from answering.
Except Ty didn’t let it go. The doors slid shut, and he looked at me. “For real, what’s the deal?”
Fuck him. “There is no deal.”
“Right,” Ty challenged. “You just took one look at her freshly fucked self and decided to beat your brother for sport?”
“Drop it,” Luna warned him.
“You were pissed too,” Ty accused Luna. “You took her into the hall for a come-to-Jesus meeting. What if the woman just likes it rough?”
Luna turned on Ty. “I said drop it.”
Ty shook his head in disgust. “Fine, but we both know why you left Harm there.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
Luna and Ty glanced at each other. Then Ty snorted, and Luna shook his head.
Goddamn it. “What?”
“You ever seen Harm pissed off?” Ty asked.
“No.” I barely knew him, but every interaction I’d had with him, he’d been calm. Almost too calm now that I thought about it.
Ty smirked. “Let’s just put it this way, unlike you, there won’t be anything left of your brother’s face if Harm gets mad.”
“That wasn’t me mad.” My brother was still conscious.
Ty looked me in the eye. “Exactly.”
MY PHONE PINGED WITH A new text, and I glanced at the unfamiliar number on the screen.
Your brother did not hurt me.
Three dots appeared, as if she was writing another text. Then they disappeared and no more messages came in.
I added the number to my contacts and waited.
Two minutes later, the dots appeared again. This time she hit send.
Songbird: I just wanted you to know that.
Against my better judgment, I typed a reply.
Me: I didn’t ask.
Songbird: I know, but I’m telling you.
Me: Telling me or justifying his sick behavior?
Songbird: That’s not fair.
Me: Life’s not fair.
Songbird: I didn’t have to tell you anything.
She didn’t have to take a beating either.
Me: No, you didn’t.
The dots appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared.
Songbird: What do you want me to say?
Everything that wasn’t true.
Me: Nothing
Songbird: That is a lie. You wouldn’t be texting me back if that was true.
I pointed out the obvious.
Me: Who texted who?
Songbird: Don’t play games. You know what I mean.
Me: I never played games with you.
Songbird: Didn’t you?
Who the fuck was she lying in bed next to right now as she texted me? Insulted, I tossed my phone aside and got up. Grabbing a water, I went above deck. I’d been pushing down shit emotions I didn’t want to deal with all day, but Ty was right. What if she liked it rough with Vance? What the hell was I going to do about it?
The answer was simple.
Nothing.
I heard my cell ping with another text, then a few seconds later another. Ignoring it, I stared at the clear night sky and inhaled the salt air.
“Figured you’d still be up.”
I glanced over my shoulder.
Carrying a six-pack, Luna stepped onto my boat. Still in his L&A polo and cargoes and ever-present 9mms on his hip and thigh, he sat down next to me. Grabbing one of the beers, he used his keychain to open it before handing it to me.
I took the cold bottle. “Permission to come aboard granted.”
Luna chuckled as he opened a second beer for himself. “I always wondered what it’d be like to live on the water. Born and raised in Miami and I was never on a damn boat until I joined the Marines.” He shook his head as he glanced at me. “How fucked up is that
?”
I took a long drag of the ice-cold beer. “About as fucked up as me buying this fifty-two-foot Carver without ever having been on a yacht, let alone piloted one.” The reason behind the purchase was even more fucked up, but I didn’t tell Luna that.
Luna chuckled again. “I like your style, amigo. Cheers.” He clinked my beer.
In a rare display of letting his guard down, Luna stretched his legs out and looked up at the night sky. We drank in silence for a few minutes.
It was long enough for me to wonder why he’d shown up. Luna didn’t make house calls. “Why are you here?”
Glancing at me, half his mouth tipped up. “Thought I’d come check on my inheritance.”
“Inheritance,” I stated.
“Yeah.” He waved his beer around. “You kick the bucket, I get the boat.”
“Yacht,” I corrected, being a dick.
“Yacht,” he repeated, nodding. “Should come in handy with the business.” He took another swallow. “Didn’t know being a next-of-kin had so many advantages.”
I looked at him.
He burst out laughing. “I’m just fucking with you.”
“You’re in a good mood.” I drank more but the beer was no longer ice-cold.
His expression sobered. “Truth is, I’m in a shit mood. Figured you’d be in a worse one. So I came to check on you.” He looked out across the water. “Just wanted to bring some levity to your situation, hermano.”
“My situation.” I sounded like a fucking parrot.
“He took her from you, didn’t he?”
I didn’t pretend to not know what or who Luna was talking about. “It would appear so.” I drained my beer.
“I’m not talking about now,” Luna clarified. “I mean years ago.”
Luna wasn’t only the best sniper I’d ever served with, he was sharp, quick thinking and intuitive. He was the Marine you wanted at your side if shit went south.
“I was twenty,” I admitted, setting my empty bottle down. “It was the night before I was deploying for the first time.” I’d never told anyone this story. The only people who knew about it had been there, but none of them heard it from my mouth.
